


Hush

by Rihala



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post Season 2, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:44:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rihala/pseuds/Rihala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles's teachers are happy. Danny is not. But he doesn’t say anything about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Waysm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waysm/gifts).



> Okay so this is an ask box fic I wrote for waysm on Tumblr (http://waysm.tumblr.com/). I only spent about 20 minutes churning it out and it's un-beta'd so if you catch any glaring errors PLEASE TELL ME.
> 
> If it's horrible I lay all the blame on the fact that I've never written Teen Wolf fiction before and I have the worst grasp on Danny's character ACK. 
> 
> I wish I had more motivation to write Teen Wolf. I have so many ships it's actually kind of sad.

Danny doesn't say anything.

He sees the bruises under Stile’s eyes, the cuts on his hands he hides under too-long sleeves, the constant, biting edge of despair that hangs around the boy. He notices how Stiles has slowly stopped fidgeting in class, taking notes with a single minded determination as he nearly presses his pencil through the page. His teachers are happy. Danny is not. But he doesn't say anything about it.

It’s not like Danny is close to Stiles. Hell, he pesters him so bad some days Danny thinks about really letting Jackson drown him in the locker room shower like he always threatens to do. Well, pester _ed._ Stiles doesn't even make eye contact with him anymore, let alone make joking-but-not-really overtures towards Danny or fish for compliments with that eager-puppy sense of desperation Danny will never admit he finds endearing. Ever.

The point is, Stile is not Stiles anymore, and it bothers Danny more than it really should.

It’s like the silence that comes after listening to music for hours. Pervasive and somehow entirely unsettling. It makes him watch Stiles too closely, trying to catalogue this new creature that has replaced him, solemn and distant-eyed and so very, very quiet.

Stiles doesn't talk to Scott anymore. Or rather, Danny notes, Scott is never around for Stiles to talk to. In fact, Stiles doesn't really talk at all. To anyone. Isaac and the blonde girl disappeared from his side right about the same time Scott did, and Stiles more often than not looks like he's buried so far inside his own head you'd need a foghorn to bring him out. He doesn't stare at Lydia, or bitch at Jackson, or even roll his eyes when Harris gives him detention –again-.

It lasts for two weeks. Two weeks, and then Danny suddenly finds himself cornering Stiles after practice before he’s really thought it through.

“If there’s something going on, you should tell someone.”

Stiles doesn't really react, doesn't even hesitate before he recites, “Nothing’s going on, everything is fine, dude.” Calm. Practiced. Infuriating.

Danny can’t stand it, and he’s not ready to ask himself why. But he puts a hand on Stiles’s arm anyway, lifting it so they can both see the cuts and bruises. “I think that's bullshit. And I think... I think that _you_ think no one but Scott ever pays attention to you. But I do. I am. So… I guess what I’m trying to say is if you need to tell someone something, that someone could be me?”

Stile blinks at him, a rabbit frozen in headlights. His jaw works for a minute, pink lips pressing together and then falling open, ever so slightly. Not that Danny really notices.

“I…uh, yeah. Yeah, okay.” He stammers, mouth twitching around the words. “If I have something to tell someone, I’ll remember that. Uh. Thanks?” Then he takes his arm back and leaves. Danny’s hand feels unusually cold.

The next day Stiles is sitting in the empty seat next to Danny’s in Chemistry. When Danny sits down, Stiles subtly shifts, cautious and curious, until Danny feels the barest press of an elbow against his. Stiles’s leg starts to bounce.

Danny doesn't say anything. But this time, he thinks, maybe that’s alright.


End file.
